


Two Princes

by lokilickedme



Series: Chemical Prehistories [6]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anja having sex and not with Tom, Anja needs hugs, Bitchiness, Chem!Tom having sex and not with Anja, Chem!Tom might not have been as nice as we think, Chris is cool as usual, Denial of Feelings, Ewan is on good behavior for once, F/M, Happy Ending, Insults, Love/Hate, Mild Drunkenness, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Slow Romance, Smoking, Tom needs a slap, and too stubborn to admit it, briefly referenced character death, finally they get their shit together, geez it hurt to type that, general baiting behavior, jealousy games, playful animosity, two people who are nuts about each other but are too stupid to realize it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilickedme/pseuds/lokilickedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes true love starts out as anything but.  Anja's version of she and Tom's inglorious beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Princes

**Author's Note:**

> _Two princes kneel before you_  
>  _Two princes who adore you_  
>  _One has diamonds in his pockets_  
>  _This one said he wants to buy you rockets_  
> 
> _This one he got a princely racket_  
>  _Got some big seal upon his jacket_  
>  _You marry him, your father will condone you_  
>  _You marry me, your father will disown you_   
> 
> _Marry him, or marry me ___  
>  _I'm the one that loves you baby can't you see?_  
>  _Ain't got no future or family tree_  
>  _But I know what a prince and lover ought to be_  
>  _Come on forget the King and marry me..._  
> 

 

The second I walked into the pub, the bartender's head shot up and he sniffed the air.

God I hated him.

I hated when he did that.

And he _knew_ it, which made me hate it even worse, and made him do it even more.

I had the sneaking suspicion that it was something insulting, something I should be angry about, and most of the time that was the reaction it provoked in me.  But sometimes, for some weird reason that made me feel all kinds of creepy and unsettled, I found it oddly erotic.  It was like he could smell me through the entire room full of people, like out of all those bodies his nose could zero in on _me_.  Which was strange, because we'd never even been alone together, even for a few seconds. For him to be able to sort my scent out from everyone else was unlikely.

But he still acted like he could do it.

He was such a weirdo.

 

My boyfriend and I liked to go to this place called Tommy's down near the piers after work - it was close to where we lived, the food and atmosphere were really good, and it was a nice central location that was convenient for all our friends to meet up at.  The only drawback was that this big jerk with the overactive bloodhound tendencies worked there.  We had a big table at the back that was designated as ours and most nights we went there at least long enough for a drink or to say hi to everybody on our way home. The bar guy was in our group of friends, but there was something about him I really didn't like - aside from the rude sniffing thing - so I usually avoided him unless he spoke to me first.

Which he sometimes did.  But mostly what he did was stand there and look at me with this expression caught somewhere between a perverted smirk and cruel intentions, and nothing could convince me he wasn't entertaining dirty thoughts that I absolutely didn't want to know about.  He was so creepy - overly tall, sort of thin, very pale, with a face that sat somewhere in that unsure place between maybe-cute and probably-not.  Not that I really ever looked at him enough to figure out which he was.  But my friend Kady was in lust with him and according to her, he was the hottest thing she'd ever seen or ever would see, and one late night when we were all sitting in the back drinking I decided I would sneak enough of a peek to draw a conclusion that wasn't tainted by our mutual animosity.

It was that night that I realized he wasn't _that_ bad...he had nice jet black hair without any brown in it, just pure black and down way past his shoulders, which I thought was pretty - but he caught me looking and shot me that nasty smirk and raised a bottle of beer, making sure I knew he'd caught me, and after I got my red cheeks under control I officially, silently, declared war.

He didn't seem to care.

 

After many weeks of putting up with his snickering laughter every time I glared at him, I ended up one night standing at the bar rolling my eyes, waiting for him to decide to stroll over and find out what I wanted.  He was taking his sweet time about it and by the time he finally made his way to me, I was so mad I shoved a glass off the bar in front of him.  It landed on his foot and he just stood there, looking down at it, till a smug grin crept across his face and he kicked the glass up into the air and caught it.

"Cute," I growled, giving him a smirk of my own.  I'd been working on my mean faces and just about had one perfected for him, but he didn't seem impressed by it as he set the glass down in front of me and leaned across the bar.  It took a few seconds before I realized what he was doing.

He was sniffing me.

"Cut it out, creep," I fussed, backing up as Sam came and edged up onto the barstool next to me.  Tom's eyes never left my face and I could feel Sam looking back and forth from him to me.

"Hey, Tommy," he said in the same friendly tone he always used on everybody.  Sam didn't have an enemy in the world and he liked Tom for some reason.

"Hey Sam."

"What's up tonight?"

"Just intimidating a rude customer," he said with complete seriousness and absolute menace, staring straight at me when he said it.

"Oh yeah?"  Sam looked around, scowling.  "Jerks.  I guess you get them a lot, huh?"

"Every night."

He leaned over and sniffed me again.  I shot him a nasty look and felt my temper notch up.  I rarely ever cursed and when I did it was usually confined to the milder end of the bad-word spectrum, but he was being so brazen, and right in front of Sam.  I pushed the glass toward him again and snarled _"Fuck off."_

Sam's head whipped around and he stared at me in shock.  "Geez Anja!"

Tom grinned as he casually picked the glass up and slid it down the bar to where the other bartender was standing, and it was pure evil in smile form.  He pulled his eyes away from me and slowly turned his head to Sam.

"Your bitch is in heat."

"My what?"  Sam looked confused and maybe a little bit intimidated - Tom was a good six inches taller than him and he had this way of sort of bending forward over people, making himself seem bigger and you smaller.  He did it to me all the time but I ignored him.  I could tell it was having whatever effect on Sam that he wanted it to, because that twisted grin got more cruel.

"Come on babe, he's drunk.  Ignore him."  I pulled on Sam's arm, urging him toward the back.

"Oh.  Yeah, okay."  He smiled at Tom, laughing a little.  But Tom wasn't laughing, and his eyes had come back to me again with that dark, unsettling gaze that made me feel so confused.  I couldn't tell if I was mad, disgusted, or starting to be aroused.  It was infuriating.

As I led Sam away, I looked back and saw Chris standing a few feet behind Tom, watching.  His guard dog.  Always watching, always nearby, never saying much but he had those sharp, piercing eyes that you knew never missed anything.  I wondered if he was keeping an eye on us in case he needed to protect us from Tom, or the other way around.  But Sam was harmless, and I was the smallest person in the room.

"You should muzzle him," I said over my shoulder, nodding toward Tom.  He was still standing there, his eyes locked on me, that creepy dark _something_ in his stare that made my stomach feel weird.  Sick, and maybe a little bit excited.  Chris just shook his head and walked off, slapping a towel over his shoulder as he went back to cleaning the bar.

  

Sam had proposed to me the previous morning and we told our friends that night.  Tom was standing behind Sam putting some bottles on our table when he said it, and he immediately turned away and walked off.  I wouldn't have paid any attention to it if it hadn't been so abrupt, but his eyes had very briefly settled on me before he looked away, and there had been a very quick flash of something that I couldn't interpret.  It was unsettling, but amid the rounds of congratulations and toasts, I didn't have time to think about it.

 

"Look at him.  He's plastered drunk and still completely adorable," Kady said, leaning over against me, nodding toward the bar where Tom and Chris were goofing around.  Tom was drumming on the edge of the bar with a set of drumsticks that he sometimes had sticking out of his back pocket, while Chris was leaning against the taps, blowing smoke rings.  It was past closing so they were both just hanging around, drinking beer and smoking and entertaining themselves till we were ready to leave.  I'd never seen Tom smoke before and it seemed kind of strange to see him now, banging on the bar with his eyes closed, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.  While I was looking at him he suddenly opened his eyes and looked straight at me, blowing a lungful of smoke out of the other side, never disturbing the cigarette.  I had to look away quickly because something about the whole scene was just...weirdly erotic.  I couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with me and decided maybe I was just hormonal.

I spent the better part of the rest of the evening doing my best not to look at him any more. 

 

It was getting really late when somebody whistled and I dared to look over at the bar again.  Chris was pointing at the door;  my eyes followed his finger and I saw a woman standing outside, huddled down in her coat against the cold.  I thought maybe it was a homeless person or somebody needing to use the phone, but when Tom came out of the kitchen and let her in, she immediately threw herself on him and gave him a big kiss.  He grinned and kissed her back, and I realized with shock that she was most likely his booty call.  I didn't know why it bothered me - he was a young, virile sort of male and women went out of their way to get close to him - I'd just never really thought of him with anybody, and now seeing him with his arms around this girl felt like something I didn't want to experience up close.

To my horror, they headed straight for our table.

"We're closing up but you guys take your time - taps are open, help yourselves."  The girl was pulling at him, kissing his hand, trying to drag him away.  His eyes fell to me and there was a wry twist of a grin when I glanced up at him.  I felt my face go hot.

"Come on, Tommy."  She hugged up against his arm and kissed his shoulder, rubbing on him, but he was still staring at me.

"Congratulations you two."

Sam raised his glass with a big smile, both men seemingly oblivious to the girl that was tugging on Tom's arm.  "Thanks man."

He finally let her lead him away and I stared at my coffee, caught in a confusing place between angry and embarrassed.  What the hell was he staring at me for?  Just to make me feel uncomfortable, maybe get me in trouble with my boyfriend?   _Fiance._  What he didn't know was that Sam wasn't the jealous type and probably hadn't even noticed.  We sat there for a while longer, talking and laughing with our friends, till I honestly couldn't stand it anymore.  All I could think of was him in the back room having sex with that girl, leaning back on the sofa with her on his lap, bouncing her on his cock.  Just a few feet away from us, on the other side of the office door.

I dug my elbow into Sam's side.

"Lets go."

"Huh?"

"Home, come on lets go home."

"Oh, yeah, okay sure."

We said our goodbyes, me tugging him toward the exit while he kept hanging back, laughing with Ben about something.  I finally got him away from the table but instead of the door, he headed for the bar to pay for our drinks.

Chris shook his head at him as we approached.  "Naw, man, Tommy said you guys drink on the house tonight.  Congratulations on the engagement."

Sam stared at him for a minute, then nodded his thanks and glanced at me with a smile.

 

He got the fucking of his life that night.

I realized after I got him into bed that it was way too easy to replace his face with Tom's if I closed my eyes.  They both had black hair and light skin and bright eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Sam was cultured and kind and a little bit shy - strutting off to bang a girl that everybody in the room _knew_ you were going to bang just wasn't something he would ever do.  But for some reason that was all that kept playing through my head, the sight of Tom being pulled away from our table, the grin on his face as the woman turned around to smile up at him as she pushed the door open with her back and tugged him in after her.

To keep from seeing him, I kept my eyes open.

I didn't even know why I was thinking of him...I couldn't stand him.  Nothing about him appealed to me, except maybe all that long pretty black hair he had.  But every time he opened his mouth he insulted me or shot some sarcastic shit at me to piss me off.  The way he smirked at me made me angry and just the way he looked at me rubbed me wrong, even without the suggestive grin.  It was like he was purposefully trying to reach a solid level of animosity with me and keep it there, guaranteeing that I would never like him.  But sometimes he was nice, sometimes he smiled at me without that mean little smirk, and in those times I thought he wasn't half difficult to look at.  Way too tall, way too wild, with something about him that just screamed bad news...but maybe there was something soft underneath it.  Maybe.  He didn't seem interested in showing it to me though, so as I pushed Sam over onto his back and sat up on him, I closed my eyes just long enough to think about how Tom and that girl must be doing it.

 

"That was good," Sam said to me the next morning, a little bit of a flush to his cheeks.  "We should do it like that...you know, sometimes."

I didn't want to talk about it, so I just nodded and stirred the eggs.  I felt guilty.  Guilty and maybe a little bit dirty...I had actually thought about Tom while I was having sex with my soon-to-be husband and I hated myself for it.  We were absolutely faithful to each other and he was my first and only - there was no room in my head for vampire boy from the pub.

"Sure," I said, dumping the eggs on his plate.  He smiled up at me as he laid his newspaper aside, not noticing anything suspicious about my quick little return smile as I hurried off to get dressed for work.

 

The day after Sam died, food started arriving on my doorstep from the pub.  I knew Tom was bringing it, but he didn't stay - just knocked on the door and left.  I saw him through the front window a few times...he would put the food down, knock, then go around the back and leave through the alley so that by the time I opened the door, I couldn't look up the street and see him.

After a while he started sending the other barman with it, and the guy would stay just long enough to ask if I needed anything.  His name was Ewan.  He always brought me coffee, the special way Tom had always made it for me, and I noticed my name was written on the lid every time, without fail.  That struck me as funny for some reason - there wasn't much chance of my cup getting confused with someone else's, since it was the only one he ever had with him.  But something about imagining Tommy scribbling my name on the lid every day was heartwarming and made me feel safe.

I had no idea why.

I still don't.

 

For nine and a half years he's scribbled my name on a coffee lid every day.  I can always tell what sort of afternoon it's been by his penmanship - if it's messy, things have been hectic and crowded;  if you can actually read it he's either got Chris helping that day or things are currently under control.  The only thing that's changed is now he doesn't write _Anja B_ on it.  He writes _Anja H._

And if there's a little heart drawn where the j should be dotted, I know that as soon as I put my cup down he's going to drag me off to the back room and bounce me on his cock for a while.

 

 

 


End file.
